The King's Broken Servant
by misti4492
Summary: It has been months since Morgana took over Camelot when Arthur finally found him. Four months is a long time to be in the clutches of the witch, and now the King is left with what remains of his friend. One-shot now expanded under the name Loyal 'Til the End
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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"No matter what, those unfortunate to be given such powers are forced to suffer," mumbled the cloaked Druid as his gnarled hand lightly traced across the blood-splattered tools. Further in the room stood a blond haired young man clad in armor and the brilliant crimson colors of Camelot; he stood stock still, hand hanging loosely at his side above where his fallen blade now rested. The knight did not even think retrieve his weapon from the grime on the ground. No he could not, not when this particular knight, King Arthur Pendragon himself, was now confronted with the worst possible outcome that this current situation could offer to him.

Merlin.

His best friend.

A friend that now lay before him broken and chained in the dank dungeons of Camelot.

It was too much to bear for Arthur, who soon found himself slumped upon the ground unable to tear his eyes away from his servant. It had been months since Morgana took over the citadel and Merlin's sacrifice to ensure Arthur's escape. Every damn day of the last four months Arthur was torn between thoughts of what the witch was doing to his friend, if she had even let him live, to questions on Merlin's true loyalties; for how is it possible for a sorcerer to willingly choose to protect the very kingdom that strives to destroy all of magic?

Yet here was proof of a magic user supporting such a kingdom. Nothing Arthur could come up with can explain the condition of the warlock that can prove any sinister ambitions. No one would willingly suffer torture if they only sought to annihilate that which they suffer for. It was at this moment that Arthur truly wished that Merlin was as evil as he was brought up to believe sorcerers to be, if only to alleviate the guilt. He could not help but think back to all those conversation with Gaius on the true nature of magic; the stubbornness for which Gaius had not realize was the King's fear for what the beliefs of his father have wrought upon those like Merlin. But no argument could really change facts. No words can take away the truth before his eyes.

Every inch of visible skin was covered in bruises of varying stages; some were fresh while others appeared to be week old. Gashes and burns littered across his body while a dragon, a cruel mockery of Camelot's crest, was carved viciously upon the center of his chest. Infection had set into the oozing wound, the origin of the fever that raged across the sorcerer's body. Crude chains engraved with harsh runes tightly circled the warlock' wrists, bounding them behind his back. Rope, knotted around the chain, was pulled taut above him barely allowing his feet to touch the ground. A cold shiver ran down Arthur's spine when realization struck him of the mangled condition the sorcerer' shoulders were in, the result of the awkward position warlock's bound arms were forced to. It was just as the king was about to reach for his sword to cut the rope when said rope snapped and the warlock crumpled to the ground.

With a deep breath and a nod of appreciation to the Druid next to him, Arthur forced himself off the ground, picking up and sheathing his sword, to kneel before what remained of his best friend. The warrior's hands, with far more gentleness than thought possible, grabbed the servant's chin and carefully lifter his head so that the King can meet his eyes.

Oh how Arthur hoped he would never look into such eyes.

Nothing remained. Eyes should be a window to the soul yet nothing can be seen. The idiot, seemingly carefree servant was gone. The twinkle that always seems to sparkle within those stormy blue depths was gone. All the King saw was a shell of his best friend.

"Why?" Arthur gave a strangled cry. It was not question of why his servant was targeted; the King knew full well that Morgana obsession over the identity of Emrys was to blame. But he could not help but question why such things could happen to a loyal, faultless man.

"It is as I said before, Sire," responded the druid, his eyes expressing over sorrow over the King and his Warlock, "In a world that persecutes all of magic, it is assumed that none would take part in such practices. Yet the world is not black and white, not the way the last decades of the Purge had forced the people to believe. In most cases, those capable of learning magic deny their abilities and live peaceful life. Then there are those that proudly embrace their gifts; people who chose to accept the consequences of the forbidden. However, that does not change the situation for those with little to no choice. Those few who cannot help but practice magic; those whose magic is so entwined into their souls that control is essential else the magic consumes them. There are few paths they can choose."

"And what is that," Arthur asked, his voice detached.

"To allow the darkness to consume them. To reject the persecution of their kind and pursue revenge against those who forced the hatred upon them," thoughts flashed through Arthur's mind of Morgana's crazed eyes as she tore down all who dare to defy her, "Then there are those who struggle against the oppression and rise against the ignorant discrimination, trying find a place in a society that only wish to reject them. They struggle through the hatred and inner darkness, latching desperately to hopes that all the suffering is not for naught, that one day they can be accepted. Even with all their strength, they are faced with countless sufferings only for the harsh reality of their situation to degrade them. The world chews them up and spits them out as filth. They turn bitter to their cause, spirits broken, and eventually join the ever increasing list of victims the anti-magic laws have created. That is one reason for the Druids chosen seclusion from the world. The world is cruel to magic users, and Emrys is no different."

Arthur knelt silently mulling over what had been said before finally letting out a slow breath and began to pull Merlin's body against himself to inspect the chains behind. A quick spell from the druid and careful maneuvering freed the servant from the cruel bindings. But even when the magic suppressors were removed, Merlin did not even stir.

Together the druid and King lifted the servant from the ground and wrapped his limp arms across each shoulder to support. Once settled, the two began to walk towards the exit, King purposefully ignoring the presence of the twisted tools within the room. It was a few minutes after the trio departed from the cells before the King spoke once again.

"We will defeat Morgana," Arthur declared, "We will recapture Camelot. And once Camelot is free of the witch's tyranny, and the kingdom is once again in peace, I promise this: I will do all I can to repay all debts and fix all wrongs against you, my friend."

The druid respectfully remained quiet. He knew the prophecies that spoke of the power between the Once and Future King and Emrys. What these prophecies have failed to mention, the druid now realized, was the deep bond between the two. No matter what hardships destiny throws at them, he knew that the two can meet each head on. Even with Emrys broken spirit, the druid knew that this was just another adversity for the two to overcome and achieve the Albion many have dreamed for.

Even in the darkest of times, the druid cannot deny his hope for a bright future when a quiet whisper, hoarse and strained, emanated from the man beside him.

"I'll hold you to that promise, Sire."

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**AN: Random idea I felt like typing, even if there are multiple amazing stories already out there that are similar. I just felt like typing this rather than be the responsible student and finishing homework *shrug* screw physics xD.**

**A bit short but I don't seem to have the talent to type up anything longer and hopefully I managed to edit most mistakes. Sorry for any I missed, it is late and I'm sleepy -.-  
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**Also f****or those confused about this, I did change my pen name on here recently and may change it again when I come up with a better one ,**  


**Reviews and constructive criticism are of course welcomed, especially any mistakes I made in here that I can fix and avoid in the future ^^  
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******Thanks for reading! **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So this originally wasn't actually meant to be a one-shot. It was an idea I had for awhile that I've been typing small snippets when I was bored. Posting that part specifically just came out of nowhere. So since this was well received and few wanted a sequel, I decided to go ahead and expand on it. The fic would deal with everything a little before, during, and after The King's Broken Servant. **

**I will either have the first full chapter by either this Friday/Saturday or next. Once I have the first chapter posted, I'll try to keep it regularly updated on a weekly basis, but first I want to actually get a decent amount of the story typed up before I start posting since I keep updating when I'm busy.  
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**Below is just a small part of the first chapter, enjoy!  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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Even in an ally's castle, the battlements were still perfect for quiet thoughts as the King of Camelot leaned against the walls, elbows resting on top with hands clasped, as he took in the view of the land. Nemeth may not have as much power and grandeur Camelot had but that did not mean the land was not beautiful, though said beauty was the last thing among Arthur thoughts.

Arthur was miles away, his thoughts musing over his own kingdom rather than Nemeth. Back to the kingdom that was still beneath Morgana's control in a little over five weeks. Though he tried to push the images from his mind, Arthur could not help but think back to the panic and fear of the populace as they tried to run and hide from Morgana's ruthless army. Even if they had known she was approaching, Arthur knew they stood little chance. The Blood Guard and army King Alined provided alone would have been more than a challenge against Camelot, but the added sorcerers and creatures was enough to slaughter the defenders of Camelot. It was all anyone could do to get the King and Queen out of the citadel.

The attack occurred within mere minutes of the guard's report while soldiers charged through the lower town, cutting down all they met. In their midst, sorcerers stood proud as they shielded the soldiers from the brunt of Camelot's retaliation; arrows stopped mid-flight and where returned, swords were deflected of an invisible barrier, the rest were thrown from their feet. Yet that was not all there was to Morgana's army, nor where the sorcerers the biggest worries. None matched the true horror the creatures of the Old Religion brought forth.

Arthur could not help but shudder when he remembered the beasts that flooded into lower town; the way the savages tore through the people as if they were nothing but parchment. They appeared in the form of ferocious lions, their spines lined with wicked spikes while their teeth and claws stained in the blood of their victims. The fur blended into scales towards the tip of what should have been its tail but was in fact the head of a serpent. This serpent eyes gleamed red, its reflexes not stunted as they quickly lashed out to anyone near. Those few who were able escape the lion's maw fell before the fatal bite of the snake. With Camelot's forces out matched, the despair settled heavily among the ranks.

The King clenched his hands once more, his eyes observing the ways the muscles tightened and his knuckles turned white. It was in this position, clenched fist by the battlement walls, that Princess Mithian found Arthur. She hesitated monetarily at the sight of Arthur before striding to stand beside the man.

"Gwen was looking for you," Mithian said as she beheld the landscape. Arthur gave a slight nod but said nothing. "The patrols have returned."

"What have they found," Arthur sighed and relaxed his hand before once again leaned into the wall.

"Morgana has the border well protected. It seems she knows your location; however, we have yet to see her act upon it. We can hope that remains as such, we are still gathering our army and the messengers have not returned from the other kingdoms. We are not prepared for an attack from Morgana."

Silence fell upon the two as Arthur absorbed the information. From what was gathered from patrols and the confession Gaius had made soon after the handful of them escaped the citadel, Arthur knew just what caused Morgana to hesitate to invade Nemeth.

Emrys' identity remained concealed.

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**AN: Like I said, small part of the first chapter. Also I haven't really looked it over yet in terms of editing, so, when I actually post the first chapter, this might have some changes and, w****hen I get to that point in this fic, Broken Servant would have changes too.  
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**I'll be posting the new fic under a different title and leave this one as it is ^^  
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**Thanks for reading! **

**Reviews and constructive criticisms are welcomed!  
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**EDIT 2/1/13: First chapter is up under the title "Loyal 'Til the End"  
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